Glass Hearts
by andHeavenfell
Summary: Childish, strange and talks to plants. That was Chelsea. Weird, lethal and has an obsession about strength. That was Shea. After her unpleasant meeting with the jungle man, Chelsea wonders why he's different from everyone else. Chelsea/Shea & Chelsea/Mark


**Disclaimer: If I owned Harvest Moon, then I would make Shea have black wings, get rid of Elliot's weird suspenders and allow us to get married to Gannon in the game. How epic that would be. But I'm not the owner. So screw that idea.**

**Okay, so I know it says on my profile that I don't write stories in this site because I prefer Fictionpress... But I'm currently addicted to Harvest Moon. Again.**

**This is just a little idea I had when I noticed that Shea's heart colour was invisible. I thought I'd make a story about that. Hehe. **

**Pairings are Shea/Chelsea, Mark/Chelsea, _slight_ Denny/Chelsea and _teeny tiny bit _of Pierre/Chelsea. Oh, what the hell. Every damn boy's in love with Chelsea. **

**Drop a review and I will forever love you.  
**

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**One**

_In which Chelsea talks to aubergines.  
_

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**It was raining.

It was raining and Chelsea was sitting cross legged in the mud, facing her swaying crops and talking to them about Lanna's ridiculous hair. She didn't care if she looked mad or insane. She lived in an island where tiny minuscule sprites talked to her and everyone worshiped a lady that lived in a pond. It was all good.

Smiling widely, the farmer continued to rant at her aubergines, going into precise detail of what she honestly thought of Lanna's hair.

"It's weird," she told them. "Half of her hair is cut short, and half of it goes up to her waist! And need I not mention that pointless hat _thing_ that she wear on her head? She looks like my grandmother - and trust me, my grandmother is _old._" Chelsea paused, looking incredulously at one of her aubergines, Graham. Yes, she named her crops.

The strange farmer girl straightened up, scowling at the motionless crop named Graham. "No, Graham. I am not just saying all of this because she _accidentally_ dropped her fried noodles onto my hair yesterday. I am speaking nothing but true, reliable _facts_."

Graham the aubergine stayed silent.

Chelsea shot up, kicking the mud with a raging face. "Don't you dare tell me that I don't like her because she likes Denny! I will have you know that Denny is besotted with me, Graham! His heart says so! And besides, it is not as if I _like_ Denny. He is a nuisance!"

Again, Graham did nothing.

"Oh shut up or else I shall feed you Pandora." And with that, Chelsea ran off, grumbling to herself.

Chelsea was a strange girl. She talked to plants much more than she talked to real people. Whenever someone questioned this strange habit of hers, she would simply say "Can't you hear them aswell?" and when they frowned and shook their heads, she would simply retort with "Hm, what a shame.". It was safe to say that half of the villagers thought that being stranded in an island caused her head to go funny, thus resulting in her delusions.

It wasn't just talking to things that Chelsea strangely did. She often spoke of other people's hearts and how she could see them and know how they felt towards her. Last year, her little outburst with poor Elliot only confirmed the villager's thoughts about her sanity.

Elliot had asked her to the Starry Night Festival last year, and Chelsea had merely giggled and shrieked out "I knew you would ask _me_! Your heart said so! It told me that you were in love with my caring and beautiful personality!"

But she wasn't insane. She was merely different, that was all. Yes, she could hear the plants talking back to her, and yes, she could see straight through everyone's hearts. To her, everyone had _glass hearts_. Everyone was transparent and predictable.

Chelsea entered her small, dilapidated house and was soon greeted by her dog, Pandora. Pandora leaped at her, licking her cheeks as she protested against her unwelcoming gesture.

"Pandora, get off-"

Behind her, the door erupted with loud, eager knocks, and she didn't even have to guess twice to find out who it was. No one but one person visited her. Shoving her dog away from her, Chelsea got up and slowly opened the door, only to be greeted by a pair of large, green eyes.

"Mark," she yawned, still holding the door. "What brings you to my house in the middle of this dreary and murky weather?"

Mark was Mark. Mark was your average guy next door who always carried a rucksack around with him. Mark was a decent boy who never took his baseball cap off. Mark was her friend.

And it was obvious that Mark was falling for her.

Ever since Chelsea had met the young blond man, she sensed it. She inspired him. To him, she was like a bright star up in the dark sky that shone out, making him blind to all the other stars out there. Of course, at first he thought nothing of her, but now...

Well, his daily visits and shy smiles made it so painstakingly obvious that he was obsessed with her.

"Chelsea!" He scratched the back of his head, grinning at her. "I-I was wondering... do you wanna take a walk with me..?"

Oh, yes. A walk in the rain was truly a pleasant thing to do on a cold, dull day.

Shrugging, Chelsea nodded and walked outside, closing the door behind her. Mark took her hand and led her along the dirty path leading to town. They spoke of random things, ignoring the rain and strange stares that they received when walking past nosy villagers.

"Graham was completely out of order today!" Chelsea huffed and glared at the memory. "He suggested that I didn't like Lanna because she liked Denny! I swear, I sometimes wondered why I planted Graham in the first place... Why can't he be like Cathy..? I'm certain that once Cathy grows fully, she'll be the best crop there ever was!"

Mark was used to this. Her unusual conversation amused him, and unlike the other villagers; he didn't think she was insane.

"Where are we going, Mark?" Chelsea asked after a while. He had led her to East Town, and they were now walking steadily past Pierre's house. "Hmmm... Pierre's cooking again. I shall have to ask him to cook me something nice. He cooks anything for me because his hearts says he thinks I'm pretty."

Nodding, Mark simply smiled and told her he wanted to explore the jungle with her. "I've never been there," he said. "I was going to go this morning, but I thought it would be better if you came along."

"I see..." Chelsea mumbled, noticing his blushing cheeks. Mark was just as predictable and transparent as anybody else was. It was boring.

Whilst being able to know what people felt towards her may be useful, it was also rather boring for Chelsea. It was like watching a movie, but you already know the ending of the movie. Pointless. Tedious. _Boring_.

She knew what every single person in the island thought about her. Taro thought she was a kid. Felicia thought she was adorable. Natalie thought she was childish. Elliot thought she was a Goddess. Gannon thought she was freaky. Denny thought she smelled nice. Pierre thought she was a rubbish cook. And Mark thought she was amazing.

Yeah, yeah. Whatever.

Sighing to herself, Chelsea quickened her pace and ran ahead of Mark, slipping her hand away from his grasp.

"Let's have a race!" She flashed him a beam, and before he could reply, she dashed off into the jungle.

*

Chelsea didn't like bugs. She had a deadly phobia of any insect that existed. It was strange actually. Being a farmer meant being outdoors most of the time, and being outdoors meant insects. But somehow, insects in the jungle seemed much more deadly than insects at town. Much, much more deadly.

And so when Chelsea was faced with a gigantic spider the size of her _head_, it wasn't a surprise that she started to scream for her dear life.

Jumping up and down like a frantic lunatic, Chelsea waved her arms about and screamed a high pitched noise. She closed her eyes and instead of running away, she remained there, wailing. If there was a large spider before her now, then no doubt there were other insects about.

It was a bad, bad idea racing with Mark. She only ran ahead of him because she wanted to be away from the lovey dovey atmosphere that he was trying to create. But now, she would rather _snog_ the blond man than be stuck in this horrendous forest.

"Chelsea!" She heard her Prince Charming's voice call out for her, ready to save her from the vicious and deadly spider. He emerged from the giant leaves and vines, a worried face fixed on his-

It was Mark. Oh.

"Chelsea, are you-"

Before Chelsea could even blink, a wooden pole struck Mark on the head and he landed on the floor with a loud _thump_.

_The spiders must be fighting back._

Breathing hard, Chelsea finally moved and backed away, screaming yet again. She turned, but instantly ran into a large, hard wall.

Chelsea fell onto the damp forest floor. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists. This jungle was evil. Pure and utterly evil. Much, much, much more evil than Graham or Lanna. This jungle-

Had walls? Chelsea frowned. She was sure that jungles did not have walls that were as hard and large as the one she had run into. It must have been a tree. But to Chelsea's surprise, when she opened her eyes, she found a pair of animal printed shoes before her.

Yellow and black. Black and yellow. Stripes. No. Not stripes... Tiger prints? Was it a tiger? Chelsea only knew about ranch animals. It wasn't a cow or a horse or a chicken, that was for sure.

"What you?"

It spoke. Animals didn't speak to her. Plants did. And she could see that this wasn't a plant - unless this plant was wearing strange printed shoes. Looking up, Chelsea saw, to her astonishment, a young man about her age. He was scowling deadly at her, pointing a short knife at her head. His hair was messy, but not messy like Mark's fluffy blond locks. His hair was spiked up all in the same direction, and was tied with a single string. His cheeks and shoulders were both painted with orange markings, standing out against his tanned skin. He wore nothing but tiger printed cloth around his waist, gloves and boots. All of his clothing were of animal fur. Chelsea shuddered at the thought of wearing dead animals.

Charming.

"What you?" He asked again, jabbing his knife closer to her face. His voice was deep and husky, and Chelsea wanted to smile at his lack of vocabulary.

"My name is Chel-"

"Not name. What you?" He demanded yet again, grabbing her roughly by the wrist and pulling her up.

"I'm a girl. Listen, if you intend to be just like Vaughn and tell me that I look like a girly man just because I refuse to wear skirts, then please shut your mouth. I'll have you know that I am very womanly looking! I have a delicate face and pretty blue eyes! I have _breasts_!"

The jungle man blinked at her, loosening his hold. "...Breasts..? What is breasts..?"

Snatching her sore arm away, Chelsea glared at him. She was starting to get irritated at this man. He was worse than Graham. "Something you'll never see. Ever."

"I take you to Wada. He know what you are." Without another warning, the jungle man grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder, gripping her in place.

Chelsea screamed like she had never screamed before.

_"Let go of me, you freak!!! I shall get Pandora on you! Let me _go_!!!!!"_ Thrashing against his grip, she looked frantically at the unconscious Mark. Some help he turned out to be.

Her heart was pounding. She wasn't sure what on earth a Wada was, but she was certain that it was much, much worse than this jungle man. It was inevitable. She was going to get raped by jungle people. Damn it. Today was a rotten day.

She never prayed much. But today was an exception. Screwing her eyes tightly shut, she clasped her hands together and prayed her hardest to the bubbly Harvest Goddess that apparently adored strawberries.

_Please, please, _please_ Harvest Goddess. Don't let these jungle people rape or hurt me. I'm too valuable to be raped in a jungle surrounded by insects and plants and-_

Plants.

The plants would help her. They never ignored her. She was like their leader; they would be lost without her.

"Help me!!!" She yelled at a nearby tree, trying to pry the young man's grip away. "Please help!!!!"

But there was nothing. No response, nothing. Nothing but silence and darkness. The silence was loud in her ears, and for the first time in her life, her head wasn't clouded by whispers of nearby greenery. It was then noticed the boy aswell. He was silent too. Not literally silent, but his heart was. She wasn't even sure if he had a heart, because one thing was for sure; she couldn't see it. She couldn't hear it, or acknowledge it. There was nothing. Nothing.

Chelsea fell limp and looked around, her mouth hanging. She was alone. She couldn't hear Graham or Cathy or Gilbert the annoying weed that kept coming back. She could still hear Mark's besotted heart calling out for her, but it was faint.

It was as if she was deaf.

"Let me go," She weakly told the jungle man, not even bothering to move. "Something is wrong with me... I think... I think... I need to get home. I need to-"

"No. Will take you to Wada-"

"I don't care about Wanda-"

"Wada."

Ignoring her further protests, the jungle man carried her to a small hut, and before Chelsea could stop him, he opened the door and brought her in.

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**I hate Lanna. She is seriously trying to steal my Denny in my game right now. I was just about to give Denny a nice juicy fish, but what do I see? Him and Lanna having a rival cutscene in the Diner. I don't even plan on marrying Denny... I'm stuck between Mark and Shea... Mark's hard though. His affection takes YEARS to rise up..****.**

**Anyway, I wanted to make Chelsea childish and strange... Meh. Dunno if it worked. I'll try to update this story this week, but I'll most likely be busy with my other stories on Fictionpress. If you're interested in those, check out my profile.**

**Till then, toodles and don't forget to review!  
**


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